20050827

"The Unbearable Lightness of Being"

CORE-RELATE! It's Saturday night. Bummer. I can't thing of anything to do but just spend the remaining hours of this day in front of the pc, blogging like crazy.

I really wanted to go out for a drink tonight, just a couple of vodkas. But, darn, I don't have my drinking buddies around.

As I was walking my way to this public pc station, I had those rounds of random thoughts again. I knew some of them were blog-worthy. But as I started tinkering with the keyboard, they seemed to have drifted into an unknown, unreached corner in my mind. I hate to beat around the bush but which better way to go than this... until I finally am able to juice them out.

My present companion is Milan Kundera's "The Unbearable Lightness of Being." It's akin to Jean Paul Sartre's "Nausea," only with a lesser nauseous aftershock. Which reminds me to re-read that photocopied compilation I disserted back in college. I seem to have a certain fondness for philosophical, mind-ravishing readings. No, I am not intellectual. Just trying to go into the deeper realms of otherwise mundane things. I rever in little meanings and correlativities.

"Unbearable" is my baptism of fire with Kundera and I can say he's definitely a high-caliber must-read author. Nietzsche, Parmenides, Hitler, Beethoven, Leo Tolstoy's Anna Karenina, Stalin, Kafka, the Red Army, Oedipus, Andre Breton, Dubcek, the Russian Civil War of 1918, Balzak... I know I've come across these names in one time or another and Kundera's novel just gave me a reason to google up so I could core-relate with the storyboard better. Still though, I don't think one has to be a well-read historian or book addict to understand what love, life, fidelity and betrayal is all about -- "everyday" themes which Kundera profoundly played with. While reading I can't help but ask myself why I've favored coupledom over singlehood half a decade ago and abandoned my reading couch. I could have discovered my kitsch earlier.
"The idea of eternal return is a mysterious one, and Nietzsche has often
perplexed other philosophers with it: to think that everything recurs as we once
experienced it, and that the recurrence itself recurs ad infinitum! What does
this mad myth signify?"

Such opens the novel... and with my favorite cup of green tea with lemon, I leafed through its profound pages and followed Teresa and Tomas from their fortuitous encounters in Prague to their emigration to Zurich and journeyed with them in their thoughts and emotions through the novelist's eyes...

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